


Can't Save 'Em All

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester / Female Reader - Freeform, Dean Winchester Angst, Drinking, F/M, Female Reader angst, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader Request - After a hunt that went bad, reader blames herself and decides to drink away her pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Save 'Em All

Weighed down by guns and other various weapons, the duffel hit the floor with a resounding _thud_ , not that you could hear it over the screams. It was your fault they had died. _If only you had gotten there a few minutes earlier_. You drug a hand over your face, moaning low as flashes of blood and death burst into your mind. You needed a drink. And none of that frilly shit Dean always teased you about. Not this time. This called for something stronger than strawberry margaritas and spiked lemonade.

 

Amber liquid splashed into the crystal glass, just enough for a quick shot. It burned a trail down your chest, making you gasp when it hit your stomach. Your vision blurred as you poured more. This time you filled the glass almost to the brim, one wrong step and you’d be wearing the whiskey instead of drinking it. You sat down at the mahogany table and stared at nothing while you drank. It started out slow, a sip here, large gulp there, but when the echoing cries for help became too much, you took to drinking out of the bottle. What was the point of pouring it into the glass?

 

_Stupid bitch! Why’d you wait so long, huh?_ You knew what it was you were hunting, but you waited too long to leave and got stuck in traffic so you didn’t get to the house in time to save them. The rugaru tore everyone apart, including their 8 month old son. His scream was the last one you heard. When it cut off short, you knew you were too late.

 

With a snarl, you threw the bottle across the room, quickly followed by the empty glass. Whiskey coated glass exploded on the bookcase, sending debris every which way. Your hands shook as you located another bottle. The cap you tossed over your shoulder hadn’t even hit the floor before you tossed your head back, drinking greedily from it, choking down the century old whiskey. Man, those Men of Letters sure knew how to pick their booze.

 

Glass crunched as you swallowed the last drop. You tossed the bottle over your shoulder, wincing only slightly when it bounced off the table and rolled across the room. Not caring which Winchester was watching you spiral out of control, you yanked open the liquor cabinet doors and grabbed whatever bottle your hand happened to land on.

 

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?”

 

_Just fucking great._ “What’s it look like I’m doin’, Dean?” You turned to face him and raised the newly opened bottle, “you’re the one always giving me shit for not drinkin’ like a hunter. Well… you got your wish. Bottom’s up!” Tequila burned worse than the whiskey, but you choked it down none the less. You didn’t care what you drank as long as the screaming stopped.

 

The bottle was ripped out of your hands and it splashed on your shirt. “HEY! I was drinkin’ that!”

 

Dean put the bottle on the table and grabbed your arms to keep you from diving after it. “It’s not your fault.”

 

“Like hell it’s not. Now lemme go!” You tried to get out of his grip, but Dean was too strong.

 

His fingers dug into your arms until you looked up at him. “It is not your fault.”

 

Tears pricked your eyes and your throat grew thick making it damn near impossible to swallow. “Yes it is! They died because I didn’t get there in time. They died because of ME!” You pushed at his chest and twisted your shoulders, trying in vain to get out of his iron grip.

 

But he didn’t let go. He pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back and in your hair as you hit his back. His chest rumbled against your cheek when he spoke, “you didn’t kill anyone, you hear me? You busted your ass to save them, but-“

 

“I was too fucking late, Dean! And the baby-” Tears finally broke free as you choked on the words.

 

“I know. It sucks like hell, but we can’t save ‘em all. You tried, baby, you tried.”

 

Your hands slapped against his back and gripped onto his shoulder blades, clutching onto the plaid over shirt he seemed to always be wearing. _You tried._ Your legs seemed to melt away as you sobbed into Dean’s chest. _We can’t save ‘em all._ His whispered reassurances were drown out by your anguished cries. _Why not? Huh? Isn’t that what you were supposed to do, save people?_

* * *

Muscles protested as you clawed your way out of sleep. It was hard to catch your breath, too many muscles hurt and it felt like there was a weight on your ribs. You smirked when you felt what was weighing you down, Dean’s forearm. His fingers flexed into your back and hot breath blew in a steady rhythm down your neck. Despite the pounding in your head you forced your eyes open. The room was dark except for the ambient bathroom light that spilled in, stopping at the foot of your bed. Your eyes adjusted quickly and you jumped a little when you found Dean staring down at you.

 

He reached up and brushed the hair out of your eyes. “Hey, you. How ya feelin’?”

 

You shrugged, grimacing when your stomach rolled. “My head hurts.”

 

“Well, that’s what happens when you drink three bottles of whiskey and tequila. But that’s not really what I meant.” He brushed his thumb along your jaw, kissing your forehead and the tip of your nose.

 

Fully expecting to be hit with everything you were feeling last night, you were surprised when all you heard in your head was the rush of your own blood. “I’m ok.”


End file.
